


i think i wanna marry you

by Paradise_of_Mary_Jane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot of crack, Crack, Drunk Shenanigans, F/M, jilychallenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 08:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11940468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane/pseuds/Paradise_of_Mary_Jane
Summary: “James?”“Y-Yes Li-Lily?”“Let’s get married now. I don’t care that you’re in your underwear.”James blushes further. He really wishes he’d decided to grab a cloak or something because Lily latching onto him like a barnacle and grinding against him like it’s the end of the world is not doing good things to his thought process. “You’re drunk,” he says.“I am.”“I don’t think you’re allowed to get married when you’re drunk.”Lily pouts. James’ resolve breaks almost instantly. “But I want to marry you. Even when not drunk.”In which there are Death Eaters, a bachelorette party, and James crying over Bambi.Oh, and a wedding. Can't forget  the wedding.





	i think i wanna marry you

Whatever happens, especially if it’s some bout of misfortune that no one could have predicted, James has learned that Death Eaters are probably to blame. It’s practically fact at this point, no matter how Lily insists that it isn’t. Death Eaters exist and James is going to blame them for anything and everything, especially everything that goes wrong in his life.

Your soon-to-be-wife disappears hours before the wedding, for example? Death Eaters. Definitely Death Eaters. No doubt about it.

James grabs his wand and summons every single drop of righteous anger that he has, which is a lot. His soon-to-be-wife has just disappeared. He thinks that he’s justified in having a lot of righteous anger. “I’m going to kill them,” he promises. “I’m going to kill them all and destroy all the evidence.”

He had woken up all alone in his living room, mugs of hot chocolate littering the coffee table, and the muggle television playing static. The first three minutes are spent wondering just what the hell happened last night because James can’t even  _ remember  _ falling asleep on the couch. Then he decides that it probably has something to do with his friends and it’s better left to the imagination.

 

It had taken him two minutes to remember that it was his wedding day and another three for it to sink in that  _ holy shit, it’s his wedding day. _

He was already halfway into his robes and three quarters of the way into a complete nervous breakdown when Sirius and Remus arrive through floo powder and send him spiraling to the edge of insanity, like the good friends they are.

Their news also caused him to trip over his feet and tear his dress robes in half, the bastards.

Sirius and Remus, because they are the worst kinds of spoilsports when they happen to agree on anything, put their hands on his shoulders, stopping him.

“Prongs…” Sirius says.

“You’re being stupid.” Remus sighs his Long-Suffering Sigh. James is of the opinion that The Long-Suffering Sigh should be saved for events of the truly comical and not the grave and serious, like this one is. He tells Remus so.

“You’re being stupid,” Remus says again, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t actually  _ see  _ Remus rolling his eyes since his back is turned, but he can hear it in the man’s voice, and the sentiment is very clearly received, thank you very much. “And this is the furthest thing from grave and serious that I can think of.”

“The Death Eaters--”

“Mate, I hate them as much as you do, probably even more, but you have got to stop blaming them for every bad thing that happens.”

James turns to Sirius, betrayed. And here he thought that Sirius was his best mate. Obviously, that is no longer the case, since Sirius is so very willing to doubt his instincts like this. Aren’t best mates supposed to be two peas in the same pod, or whatever expression Lily had used to describe them once. Maybe James should take it up with Peter.

Sirius is poking James’ ruined dress robes with his wand, eyebrows furrowed, and completely ignoring James.

“I have no idea how to fix this,” he says. “Moony do you—“

“What gives you the impression  _ I _ know how to fix clothes?”

The two of them take a moment to glance at Remus’ very, very tattered and patched together clothes.

“Fair point,” Sirius says. “But still—“

James interrupts him with the most threatening growl he can manage. Sirius looks distinctly unimpressed.

“They’re always to blame,” James says. “Death Eaters are evil.”

“James! We are trying to get you hitched here!”

“They’re always to blame. Remember that time—“

“That was purely coincidental!”

“And there was that one—“

“Death Eaters aren’t to blame for blowing up the back room of the Three Broomsticks, mate,” Remus says. “ _ You  _ were.”

James scoffs and tries to pull away. Obviously, he had befriended a bunch of traitors who do not understand the gravity of this situation.

“I will go after them myself if I have to—“

“James.”

“I’d thought that I could have counted on the two of you, but obviously—“

“James for the love of—“

“I’d always thought that neither of you liked Lily but this just drives the point home—“

“James Fleamont Potter I swear to Merlin, Dumbledore, and all the bearded wizards who have ever lived that I will stun you if you do not shut up and listen right this minute!”

James blinks. Sirius looks ready to make good on his threat. Remus looks ready to do worse. A distant, sane part of his brain is screaming at him to  _ shut the hell up man and keep that mouth shut if you want to live. _ James prides himself on never listening to that voice.

“You can’t take me,” he says. Sirius stomps his feet on the ground, accidentally stepping on James’ dress robes and tearing it further, while Remus throws his hands up in the air.

“For the love of—“ Remus says. “Lily wasn’t kidnapped by Death Eaters, you nitwit!”

“Then where is she?”

Sirius growls, sounding more rabid dog than twenty-year old person. “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you, you frog-faced, little—“

“She’s with Death Eaters!” Remus says. His hand is back on James’ shoulder. James realizes this because his hand is currently trying to crush James’ shoulder blade.

“You just said they didn’t kidnap her!”

“They didn’t.” Remus takes several deep, calming breaths. James thinks he should be offended; it’s not like it’s Remus’ wedding, and the life of his fiancée is at stake right now.

“Then what happened?” he demands.

Sirius takes a deep breath, not meeting James’ eyes. For the first time since James came to them in a panic induced frenzy three hours ago, Remus and Sirius look less annoyed and more guilty.

“Well, don’t be mad, but it starts like this…”

Somehow, James just  _ knows  _ that by the end of it, he’s going to be  _ so  _ mad.

##

“I’m going to regret this.”

“Oh shut it you.” Mary is holding several glasses in her hand, and levitating several others. They’re at a bar (tavern, Dorcas’ voice insists in Lily’s mind which Lily very pointedly ignores) and Mary, Dorcas, and Lily had stuffed themselves into the shortest and tightest dresses in Lily’s wardrobe. Lily does not think that any of this is a good idea. “It’s your last night single! Enjoy it!”

“I haven’t been single since Hogwarts or did you forget all those times you caught James and me snogging in some corridor.”

“Lily darling, no one can forget how thirsty the two of you were in school. I’m pretty sure there are firsties right now who are still mentally scarred from catching their Head Boy and Girl in compromising positions.” Mary rolls her eyes. “But this makes it official! Tomorrow you’ll be married! Gone! Kapeesh! Off the market for all time!”

“You make me sound like I’m salad dressing,” Lily complains.

“For the love of—“ Mary pushes Lily with her free hand. “Move. We are having a traditional muggle bachelorette party and there is nothing you do can stop me, Evans! I put way too much research into this!”

“I’m muggle-born,” Lily says. “You could have just asked me and I could have just told you how bad of an idea this is and we could be at home eating ice cream instead.”

“To hell with your ice cream!” Dorcas says, appearing on Lily’s other side. Lily feels the rapid onset of a headache coming for her. “I want to get drunk on firewhiskey!”

“You’re already drunk on firewhiskey,” Lily says.

“Well, you can always get drunker!”

Lily would pinch the bridge of her nose except that her arms are being kept in place by two purebloods who are overenthusiastically trying to recreate the stupidest muggle traditions imaginable. Lily knew that she should have stopped them from taking Muggle Studies all those years ago.

“Is this you trying to come out of your repressed shell from Hogwarts?” Lily asks. “Because my wedding night is not a good night for it. It is probably the worst night to be rebelling against the system.”

“I don’t know what the fuck that means,” Dorcas says cheerfully at the same time Mary says,

“You are such a spoilsport!”

Maybe Lily is, but she is not taking any chances. She would have been perfectly alright with it, hell, she would have been the one handing out the shots at any other time, because Wizarding liquor is infinitely better than muggle ones, but it’s her wedding night and Lily is intimately familiar with the type of bullshit shenanigans she pulls after her sixth glass.

“Come on!” Mary levitates a glass, right in front of her lips. Lily likes to think she’s resisting temptation well, but then, if she were perfectly honest, she’s also a nineteen-year-old girl with poor impulse control faced with really good alcohol. Who’s ever actually been perfectly honest with anyone, especially themselves?

She takes the shot.

\--

(“How do you even know this? You were with me the entire night!”

“Shut it Potter. I’m getting there.”)

\--

She doesn’t know how many shots she’s had when Sirius and Remus arrive at the bar—tavern, Dorcas keeps insisting, but tavern is the most ridiculous word Lily’s ever heard and she refuses to use it on principle.

Haven’t wizards ever heard of modern languages?

She turns back to Sirius and Remus who seem to be watching her. Sirius looks like he’s already on his third shot and trying to catch up to Remus, who’s on his fifth.

“You’re supposed to be with James,” she says.

“And you are drunk.” There’s an amused lilt to Sirius’ tone that Lily’s not used to hearing on him. Remus must be wearing off on him. That or Lily’s really, really shitfaced.

Could be both.

“Take a shot!” Mary all but throws the shot glasses towards the two of them. Sirius and Remus share a glance, like they’re reading each other’s minds. Lily narrows her eyes. That’s supposed to be illegal, isn’t it?

She shakes her head. No! She has more important things to worry about.

“You’re supposed to be with James,” she says again. “Where is James? Where did you hide him? Is he under the table?”

Lily doesn’t wait for him to answer. She looks under the table. James isn’t there.

“James is back at his flat,” Remus says when Lily resurfaces. “We slipped a sleeping draft in his tea before we got to the end of  _ Bambi _ .”

“Why would you do that?”

“Do you know how much the man cries at it?” Sirius scoffs. “I’d rather get shitfaced and make shitfaced decisions than deal with that all over again.”

(“The two of you are bastards. Complete and absolute bastards.”)

“You left him alone on his wedding night?” Lily demands. “You are… You are the baddest best friends ever!”

“We left Peter with him.” Sirius waves her off. “And he’s asleep. Not much to be done about that. Now c’mon. Where is the alcohol and how far do Remus and I have to catch up?”

As if summoned, Mary arrives with another tray of shots. Lily is too drunk to even think about regretting her decisions.

She takes another shot.

The night goes on and on and on, and about a hundred shots later…

“Why are we at your cousin’s door again?”

Sirius turns to Dorcas, eyes unfocused, and a serene smile on his lips. It’s the most terrifying look Lily’s ever seen on his face and she’d probably be running in the opposite direction if she’d been a little more sober.

Sadly, she has very little impulse control and too many enablers.

“She’s your cousin too, you know,” Sirius says.

“Second cousin!” Dorcas says. “And only on my mother’s side! What is she to you again?”

“First cousin on my mother’s and second on my father’s,” Sirius replies easily.

“How the hell do you all remember that?” Remus demands. “You’re drunk.  _ I  _ can’t even remember how many cousins I have right now.”

(“Moony, you don’t  _ have  _ any cousins.”

“Exactly!”)

“Obviously you’re more drunk than they are,” Mary says.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not! I am still coordani—coordina—cordinate—“

“Shut it you lot,” Lily hisses. “Are we going to do this or not?”

“Of course we’re going to do this!” Dorcas exclaims. “Sirius’ cousin is a bitch!”

“Oi! She’s your bitch cousin too!”

“Shut it and help me sneak into this manor dammit! How do you undo this bloody lock?”

\--

(“Wait—So wait. Are you telling me that Lily wasn’t kidnapped by Death Eaters because the lot of you got drunk and snuck into the Lestrange’s manor and what? Left her there? The night before our wedding?”

“Well… not exactly.”

“What the—“

“Look do you want to hear the story or not?”

A sigh. “Do I have a choice?”)

\--

The look on Bellatrix Lestrange’s face when the five of them stumbles into her drawing room like a bunch of rowdy penguins who forgot where their legs are is something that deserves to be immortalized, in Lily’s opinion.

Lily turns to her friends.

“Do you have a camera?” she demands.

They blink at her.

“Camera!” Lily stomps her foot on the ground. Stupid wizards and their stupid refusal to use technology like normal people. Why is she marrying into this madness again? “For the love of Merlin! You have those here! Like those things you take pictures with except the pictures move and—“

“What are you doing here?” a voice behind her screeches. Lily turns and is almost disappointed that she didn’t get to take a picture of Bellatrix Lestrange’s face.

Almost.

The one she has now is almost ten times funnier.

“You look funny,” she declares. Bellatrix Lestrange makes a sound not unlike a squawk of a swan or something. Lily can’t even remember where she heard a swan squawk before, but she’s certain that the sound Bellatrix Lestrange made sounds exactly like one.

“Hello cousin,” Sirius says cheerfully. “We are drunk.”

“Really drunk,” Dorcas adds. “And you’re my second cousin, too! Hello! Haven’t seen you in a while!”

“Drunk?”

“Really drunk,” Lily confirms.

“Your security is terrible, by the way,” Mary says. “We opened it in ten minutes and Dorcas doesn’t even have her wand! Anyone could have broken in!”

“…Clearly.”

“We broke in,” Remus adds. “While really, really drunk.”

“Trust me, I haven’t failed to notice that.”

There’s a moment when no one says anything and Lily takes the time to take in her surroundings. It’s pretty and straight out of a history book, as most Wizarding buildings are. Old and really, really, really musty.

The place seems mustier than Hogwarts, and that’s saying something.

“I’m going to give you one minute to run for your lives,” Bellatrix Lestrange says. Lily thinks that her voice is supposed to be a deadly whisper but she has trouble taking it seriously because 1.) her blood is probably more firewhiskey than actual blood right now, and 2.) Sirius uses the exact same tone when he wants to hog the dessert and he’s eating with five other people. “And then I’m going to—“

“Expelliarmus!”

Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand is suddenly flying out of her hand and into Sirius’ hand. Thick ropes begin to creep up her body, pinning her arms to her chest and gagging her mouth. Lily has to suppress a giggle. Bellatrix Lestrange: beaten by five drunks.

“You should really work on your security.” The serene smile is back. Lily is almost certain that even Voldemort himself would be terrified beyond his wits when faced with a serene and drunk Sirius Black.

A series of screams that sound like a dying baby. Lily assumes they’re insults, but then, everything that comes out of Bellatrix Lestrange’s mouth sounds like an insult.

Even her name sounds like an insult.

Loud snorts all around her. Lily realizes that she may have said all of that out loud.

“Blinky!” Dorcas bellows. “Blinky where are you?”

A tiny house-elf appears into the room with a small pop.

“Mistress called?”

“Get the guest room ready. We’re crashing here tonight.”

Blinky glances between Dorcas, who is smiling stiffly, to Bellatrix who is still screaming into her gag.

“Mistress Bellatrix is playing a game,” Dorcas says calmly. “Now please get the guest room ready.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Another pop and the elf is gone.

“Why does she listen to you?” Sirius complains.

“Because I didn’t get myself disowned, you fuckwit. Now let’s get to bed.”

\--

(“So you stayed over?”

“Yes.”

“At your crazy cousin’s house? At your crazy cousin’s house who also happens to be a Death Eater. The Death Eater who’s Voldemort’s favorite Death Eater? That crazy cousin?”

“Well yeah. We were pretty plastered, James. It wouldn’t have been safe to apparate and you know how good the beds there are.”

“Well, yeah but—Not safe to apparate—No. You know what, I’m done with this. I’m going to get Lily out of there on my own.”

“James wait!”

“I am not waiting anymore.” He rounds on his friends. “And you are all the worst kind of idiots imaginable!”)

\--

What James finds when he goes to the Lestrange Manor is not what he expected. What he expected was a dark manor, crawling with Death Eaters, perhaps a few giant spiders thrown into the mix, for the added ‘Death’ effect, maybe a few relics filled to the brim with dark magic lying around here and there. What James did not expect was…

“James! Fiancé! Yohoo! I’m glad you made it!”

A party. He hadn’t expected a party.

“Oi Potter!” Dorcas. That sounds a lot like Dorcas. That sounds a lot like a very drunk Dorcas. “Get your ass over here and get married!”

James follows the voice, too shocked to do much of anything else. There, in the garden of Lestrange Manor, decked out in her wedding gown, hair elegantly arranged, is his soon-to-be-wife Lily Evans. She’s beautiful, James thinks because he can’t look at Lily and  _ not  _ think that. 

 

She also looks really, really, really drunk.

“We’re getting married!” Lily says.

“Here?”

“We’re here, aren’t we?” She squints at James, a frown flitting across her features. “What in Merlin’s name are you wearing?”

James looks down. He feels himself blushing right down to his roots. He had somehow forgotten, in the ensuing chaos, that he was not wearing any robes and was, in fact, walking around in his underwear.

“Well…”

“I knew we shouldn’t have let those two dunces come and fetch you,” Mary says. She too, sounds drunker than… well, drunker than can possibly be healthy, that’s for sure.

James is finding it very hard to think of metaphors right now, seeing as Lily is currently grinding against him.

“James?”

“Y-Yes Li-Lily?”

“Let’s get married now. I don’t care that you’re in your underwear.”

James blushes further. He really wishes he’d decided to grab a cloak or  _ something  _ because Lily latching onto him like a barnacle and grinding against him like it’s the end of the world is not doing good things to his thought process _. _ “You’re drunk,” he says.

“I am.”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to get married when you’re drunk.”

Lily pouts. James’ resolve breaks almost instantly. “But I want to marry you. Even when not drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I really, really love you, you know. I love  _ you  _ the mostest.”

James gulps. He takes several deep breaths, though he knows that it’s futile. It’s not like he ever claimed to have any sort of self-control where the wishes of one called Lily Evans is concerned.

“I love you the mostest, too,” he says. “Okay. Let’s do this. We’re getting married at a Death Eater’s house. Okay. But where on earth did you even find someone to marry us?”

Lily grins the grin of a person so drunk that she almost seems lucid. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” she says.

James smiles back weakly and decides that no, he really  _ doesn’t  _ want to know.

##

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> catch me on [tumblr](http://prongsfoots.tumblr.com)!


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